Fairfarren, Alice
by KHwhitelion
Summary: He'd asked her to stay. Wanted her to stay. But she didn't, and when she left, she took with her his will to live. Can a Dormouse and a Queen convince her to return? Or is it already too late? Dark. AlicexHatter
1. Prologue

**(Taps on the computer screen.) Hello? Hello, is this thing on? (notices readers.) Ah! Well, hello there, readers! Welcome to my first 'Alice in Wonderland' fanfic! Based of course, on Tim Burton's fantastic new movie!**

**I'm a bit hesitant about posting this: it's a biiiiit darker than some of the other fanfics I've read for this fandom (let alone pairing) but I can't really do anything about that. It is, I believe, still a good story (even though it's not finished yet) but I'll let you be the judge of that: If no one likes this here prologue, I don't know if I'll post the rest of the story. I want to, but not if no one is going to read it. So please, for the sake of my creative muse (and this story) please let me know what you think! A review, an alert, I don't care. I would just love to continue this story, simply because it's both fun and challenging to write! And of course, because I love to entertain, despite my rather dark muse.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

She knew this was a bad idea. From the moment it had been proposed, a knot had lodged itself in the pit of her stomach and refused to loosen—proof that somewhere, somehow, _something_ was bound to go wrong. Right off the bat, she knew.

And yet, she had accepted anyway. Did not even give it a second thought. Granted, it was not like she _could_ hesitate upon such a decision; so much was already at stake. The time for waiting had long since run out.

_Besides_, she reasoned, swallowing down that lump of uncertainty, _just because something is a bad idea, doesn't mean it isn't the right thing to do._

So now here she stood, frantically pacing back and forth on the balcony of the White Queen's castle; her heart racing a mile a minute in her acutely poised ears….senses tuned into the night atmosphere intently…..listening….watching….

"Mally!"

She jumped, biting her lip hard to keep from squealing. A timid laugh followed her sudden addressor, and as Mallymkun looked up, her deep, crimson pupils met the apologetic eyes of the White Queen.

"Oh dear," she whispered, touching a hand to her lips, "I'm so sorry I frightened you." The fair-haired woman extended her free hand towards the dormouse, but Mallymkun brushed it—as effectively as a mouse _can_ brush such a large thing as a hand—away, her cheeks flustered under her fur in embarrassment.

"Think nothing of it, my queen." She replied, the words 'I wasn't startled and y'didn't sneak up on me' laced within the phrase. At such dire a time, it did no good to appear vulnerable. Especially to the ruler of Underland.

Despite the dark, Mallymkun saw her queen shake her head, bending down so as to better speak to the small—though she was rather tall for her species—mouse. "Please, call me Mirana." The queen….or 'Mirana'….said, a curtain of platinum hair falling over one shoulder. "We've no time to spare for formalities."

That same, foreboding knot twisted in the Dormouse's stomach, but she suppressed a grimace, instead wiping her face clear of any expression at all. Her voice, however, was unable to keep her true emotions hidden from her reply. Bordering on urgency, she answered the queen with a hasty "_right"_ before cursing the exposure in her statement and abruptly closing her mouth.

Mirana, observant as she was, noticed this, and smiled—if not somewhat sadly—at her furry companion. "Mally," she began, "It's perfectly understandable be upset at a time like this. I…._everyone_ is, you know."

"I know. And I'm not upset. Jus'…." The Dormouse sighed, her tail drooping around her ankles "….concerned, I guess. He's getting worse."

A small gasped escaped the White Queen's throat, and she closed her eyes, pressing a curled hand to her bosom. "I feared as much." She murmured, taking a breath so as to calm herself. Like Mallymkun, Mirana often chose which emotions to drape around her sleeve, and which to tuck away. Fear, anxiety, and desperation were not among the list. Yet here they were, threatening to break the usually strong woman's composure and consume her. Despite her nonsense about it being okay to be upset, the queen herself seemed to have very little practice in that area, as was clear by the crease in her brow, and the tight line formed across her lips.

To make it worse, Mallymkun could do nothing but sit there and wait until her queen regained composure. _Bloody 'ell._

"Did…." Mirana said suddenly, "….did anything….specific….happen?" Her eyes had opened once more, sorrow floating behind each of her chocolate irises.

Mentally, the little sword-wielder swore, memories from a few days past flashing across her mind. "I…." She started, but stopped just as suddenly, clutching the hilt of her blade tightly. Mirana just _had_ to ask _that_ question. "….Well…."

"Mally…._please_."

The mouse's gaze dropped to her feet. "Two days ago….h….he told me something. Something I…." Again her words died; rapidly losing her battle against her vulnerability. "I…." her tail curled further near her feet, face contorting into a look of pain. "H-he told me was considerin' things that started wiv the letter '_D_.'"

Silence.

A gasp of alarm, shortly followed by one of understanding.

"….'_D_'?"

A small bob of the mouse's head was the reply. "Tha's right." She whispered, her eyes round with memories of a few days past, "devastation….despair…." her voice dropped an octave lower "….and…." Mirana was forced to lean even further in to catch the concluding line from Mallymkun's trembling lips, "…._death_."

A long silence fell between the two after that, each struck differently upon hearing that dreaded word. Both had suspected the seriousness of the situation, but somehow, hearing it confirmed aloud—even twice, in Mally's case—made it seem so much more _real_. More _tragic_. Standing there, bathed in the soft glow of the moon, both the queen and the Dormouse took a moment to absorb the truth of the matter at hand; no matter how close they may be to him, or how dearly they loved him, if the task they had so carefully planned failed, he was going to _die_.

Mirana was the first to speak, clearing her throat in attempts to get back on track.

The silver-furred mouse raised her head in response, blinking rapidly to clear the—dust, it was _dust_—from her eyes. "I suppose we ought to get a move on then."

The White Queen nodded, before reaching into a concealed pocket of her dress and pulling out a small vial. "This should be enough to take you there and back." She informed the Dormouse, setting the glass container down by her side, "but drink it carefully—remember, you won't be alone when you return."

Grimacing at the violet liquid sloshing against its translucent confines, Mallymkun bent forward—though not very, as the vial was half her size—eying the amount with mild revulsion. "And 'ow, if I may ask, does it taste?" She inquired, imagining the numerous—or few, it was uncertain—possible flavors such a rare yet vibrantly colored substance could be. If she was going to drink the stuff, a heads up would do to benefit her.

Mirana, on the other hand, thought otherwise, as she chose to ignore her companion's question and continue her instructions. "Absolum has informed me of her location; a bit tricky, if I do say so, but not at all unattainable. As long as," and here she attentively paused, "you're immune to sea sickness."

Mally scoffed, tearing her eyes away from the vial to glare rather flatly at the Queen. "'Ardly seems to matter. I don't 'ave a choice."

"True. I just thought it best to warn you." As before, the fair-haired woman extended a hand towards the Dormouse, who, no longer dueling with her previous embarrassment, hopped accordingly into the Queen's palm, clutching the small container to her chest. Her heart, whose tempo had been gradually building, thudded against her ribcage as Mirana raised her hand so that Mallymkun was now only inches from her porcelain face. "Be careful, Mally." She warned, a faint line of worry etched into her forehead.

A slight grunt, followed by a _clink_ as the silver-furred mouse removed the vial's lid served as her answer. Flattening her ears against her head, the sword-wielding rodent exhaled through her nose, tilted back the bottle, and took a swig of the liquid inside. A bitter taste flooded her taste buds and she nearly gagged. Figures something as vulger as the Jabberwocky would contain equally repulsive blood.

Barely restraining herself against making a face, Mallymkun swallowed, straightened, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Guess I'm off." She murmured, popping the lid back onto the glass container and securing it to her body with the sash around her waist. She turned back to the queen; startled at how suddenly vague she appeared—nothing but shadows against a hazy outline. However, amidst the evaporating world, Mirana's stern gaze shown through. "You cannot fail, Mallymkun." She whispered, her voice bouncing off invisible walls in a hollow echo, "she's the last chance he has."

Gritting her teeth, the Dormouse balled her fists, clutching her dominant hand to her heart. "I know."

* * *

**This is a prologue, as previously stated—but whether it continues, is up to you! The first chapter (after this one) is already written, so let me know if you'd like to read what happens next!**


	2. Decisions, decisions

**Before I get started, I just want to thank you guys so much!! I can't believe all the support/reviews/feedback I received for the prologue of this fic! 21 reviews in two days?! You guys are awesome!**

**So, as promised, here is the official first chapter of this story :D I hope you all enjoy it!**

**Oh, one last thing, because I know someone is going to mention it sooner or later: When I write, I use four ellipses (....) rather than three (...). Why? I have obsessive-compulsive disorder. Nuff said.  
**

* * *

If there were any sort of word to describe the life of a sailor—out of all the thousands of words one could possibly imagine—dreary would be the very least likely to suspect. And yet it was precisely that word that was floating around in Alice Kingsley's mind as she gazed out into the open ocean; the wind whipping her hair, stray salty droplets occasionally splashing against her cheek and forehead. Oh, how she longed for adventure; it was, truthfully, more than half the reason she had agreed upon becoming Lord Ascot's apprentice, after all. And why she had willingly broken away from her mother's eagle eye and joined her master and his crew on their voyage overseas.

It had been quite exciting at first; to be free of one's mother—and all of her incessant complaints—was an elative feeling indeed. No more "Alice, where are you stockings?" Or "Alice, put on your corset!" and—her mother's personal favorite "Why can't you just act like a lady?" It was all rather tiresome, and Alice was more than glad to be rid of it.

Yet, while the freedom remained, her ecstasy of finally being her own woman—for she was now twenty and more than old enough to be considered as such—had gradually begun to crumble, until all that remained was a faint flicker in her chest each time she thought of the numerous quibbles her mother had had with her choice of dress and behavior, dating back to her childhood.

"Oh Alice," she muttered to herself, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "You're being absolutely ridiculous. Is traveling to China _not_ an adventure?" Indeed, it was….

…._supposed_ to be, anyway. But the further she traveled, the less certain she became. If this were truly the adventure she longed for so dearly, surely her excitement was supposed to last? For goodness sake, the ship itself was _named_ 'Wonder.' That in itself _should_ have….

She shook her head, as if to banish the thought from her mind. _You're doing it again_, she scolded, her arm dropping to her side after the failed attempt to tame her hair, _You really must stop comparing everything to…._ Again her train of thought broke, a pained expression flickering momentarily in her chestnut colored eyes_….that place. You can never go back there, even if you wanted to._

Well, that was only half-true. It was not so much she could _not_ go back; rather, she had not the slightest idea _how_….

"And anyway," Alice finished aloud, ignoring the twinge in her heart as she spoke, "Why would you want to go back to….to go back _there_? You've got so much in store for your future, Alice! Just look at where you're headed!"

Complying to her oral thoughts, the blond-haired girl raised her head, soaking in her surrounding area; watching the grey-blue waves rise and fall against the ship's hull, its dark colors contrasting—yet matching perfectly—with the faded gray sky above. The smell of sea-salt tickled her nostrils, the ocean air caressing the sides of her face. Every bit of her surroundings possessed a serene air of beauty; the type of beauty one rarely if ever experienced in one's lifetime.

Alice, however, was not such a person. She had seen beauty quite like this before—twice, actually—the last time being mere months ago….

_Stop that this instant! _Her thoughts cried again, earning a grimace from the blond-haired girl, _think what your father would say!_ At the inner mention of her father, Alice's eyes clouded over, pulling her pale blue overcoat closer to her body. Indeed….what _would_ her father say? Had he not worked his entire life to be in the very position Alice was currently in?

Of course he had….

At the same time….he also happened to be the biggest supporter and fan of her wild 'dreams'—memories, actually, but back then, she was unaware of that. _"Follow your heart, Alice."_ He had told her, smiling with both his mouth and eyes, _"Never let anything or anyone deter you from being _you_."_

Thinking back on his words, a feeling of uncertainty washed over the young girl. She had tried so hard to live by her father's lessons—to keep his memory alive, if only by acting upon his advice. Nevertheless, since she had hopped aboard the 'Wonder' and began her journey, Alice could not help _but_ wonder if she had, in fact, strayed from his words.

_Had_ her identity been muddled upon this expedition?

Was she _really_ acting on her heart's desires?

The answer was not an easy one.

Releasing a breath, Alice bent forward, propping her elbows up against the ship's railing. "Oh bloody hell."

"My my! How frightfully unladylike, to curse like that!"

Despite her troubled thoughts, Alice allowed a small smile to grace her lips. "I hardly think anything about me screams 'ladylike', lord Ascot." She replied, turning around to face her master and future business partner, "especially at the present moment. If I am to live like a sailor, then I should naturally be allowed to curse like one, wouldn't you agree?" She had cocked her head to the side, crossing her arms over her bosom as if to prove a point.

Lord Ascot merely shook his head; what remained of his graying hair flopping about. "So much like her father." He murmured, chuckling softly.

Alice's smile broadened, her cheeks slightly pink in color. However grateful she was for her resemblance to the late Charles Kingsley, she always felt a twinge of embarrassment every time someone brought it up. Why? She could not say.

"Lord Ascot!" She started, once his musings had passed, "Have you come out here simply to fill in my mother's duties _for her_ while I'm away?"

"Not at all, Alice—I just came to inform you of the time. It's getting rather late, and by the looks of the clouds ahead"—and here he tilted his gaze towards the sky—"we may in fact be due for a storm."

Mimicking his actions, Alice herself turned to better examine the graying clouds, her lips pursing into a tight line when she noticed their darkening hue in the distance. "It appears the weather is reading my thoughts." She muttered, slipping back into a somber mood.

Noticing this, lord Ascot stepped forward, concern flickering in his grey-blue eyes. "Are you alright?" He asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. They had grown quite close during their time at sea, and, as the eldest member of the crew, Alice had begun to see him as a sort of foster father. Though he would never replace Charles, lord Ascot had learned quickly to pick up on her emotions, and rather than scold her for them—as her mother would have done—he developed what he liked to call his 'Alice sense.' Like a shark to blood, the older man had a knack for zeroing in on her troubled emotions, no matter how well she managed to hide them.

Still, it never hurt to try.

"I'm fine, I suppose—"

"You _suppose_?"

"—I'm just tired. A lot of things on my mind." She finished coolly, a bit put off at having been interrupted.

If it were anyone other than lord Ascot, Alice's tone would have earned her a reprimanding. However, the older man merely nodded, flashing his apprentice a knowing smile. "Then perhaps you should retire for the evening."

Not quite understanding the reason for his smile, Alice merely accepted his suggestion, bid him goodnight, and headed down to the living quarters below.

"Alice!" Ascot called, halting her in her tracks. Distracted though she was, Alice turned her head. Her master's previous expression softened, and his grin doubled in size. "Your father would be proud."

* * *

She had made her way down to the living quarters, biting the insides of her cheeks to keep from crying out. While lord Ascot had meant well, his words had yet to relieve her of her troubles. If anything, they made them worse.

_Would father be proud of me?_ Alice thought, the mental words tainted in a subtle misery that left a dull ache in her chest. She did not know. Sure, she may be traveling to the other side of the world, expanding both his name and his lifelong dream….but something….something felt _wrong_.

If only she knew _what_.

Throwing up her hands in frustration, Alice sauntered over to her bed, stripping off her overcoat and tossing it in a heap to the floor. Exhausted and confused, she plopped down upon its welcoming surface, leaning back against the wall—as the bed was shoved up against it—and closing her eyes. Oh how she wished someone—or some_thing_, it mattered very little—would come along and clear up this mess _for_ her. Perhaps _then_ she could finally have her questions answered, and her identity established.

Hold on, that was not quite right. It was not that she did not know _who_ she was….but rather, _what_ she should be doing with herself. Her father had said to follow her heart….but _where_, exactly did it lie? Slumping further against the wall, the exhausted blond released an elongated breath. _What good does it do to follow one's heart when one doesn't even have a map?_

"Yet another question without an answer." The girl alleged dryly, drawing her legs towards her chest. "Why can't I just make a decision?"

She knew the answer even before the words left her lips. Despite her wild imagination and unrestrained tongue, Alice Kingsley had always had difficulty when it came to being decisive. Not with trivial things, of course—such as the endless fashion spats with her mother—but when it came to dire, life-changing decisions. Such as….such as her ghastly proposal from _Hamish_. Or how and if she could slay the….

"The Jabberwocky." Alice finished aloud, her voice dropping to a whisper. She had nearly forgotten the struggle she had faced upon making _that_ decision. Everything had always seemed so much simpler in Under….when she visited _there_. Anything that was not remotely ridiculous and half-mad seemed out of place in that world—twice as much as any sort of seriousness one could conjure up in the 'real world.'

_Oh, but it…._they_….were real as well._ She reminded herself, despite the unsettling feeling creeping into her chest. Despite how often she tried not to think about it, there was no denying that world existed. The three white scars coiled around her arm served as a constant reminder.

Besides, there was a certain, red-haired, wild-eyed madman she needed to prove wrong.

"_You won't remember me."_ He had said, that flattened tone laced with a hundred percent certainty. It irked her, really—after all they had been through, after she had proved to be a champion—that he would dare to think she would forget him and the rest of Under….

_Say it, Alice._

….Underland.

It was precisely then a rather loud **CRASH** coming from the opposite side of her room jerked Alice from her thoughts. Startled, Alice opened her eyes, scanning the area for her uninvited intruder. It _had_ to be an intruder, as the sea rarely caused her possessions to fall from their place, even when on the verge of a storm. Sure enough, her caramel pupils came to rest at the base of her door, where a rather petite figure stood—somewhat shaken—struggling to erect an unusually colored object about half its size. At first glance, it resembled one of the rats she occasionally roaming the length of the 'Wonder' for scraps of food. Yet, as she studied it, she noticed several qualities about this furry creature a typical rat seemed to lack. For one, this one had no trouble at all standing on its hind legs, nor did it have any difficulty maneuvering its front paws like human hands. However, the most prominent feature this rodent-esque—for it _was_ a rodent of sorts, what with its lanky tail and rounded ears—creature, was the clothing draped over its body: a raspberry colored dress, with a frilly white scarf, and a leathery _sword's sheath_.

Alice gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief. "M….Mallymkun?" The words were whispered—the shock and confusion holding the volume of her voice hostage—but the mouse's ears were keen, and, stiffening ever so slightly, she spun around.

"'Ello, Alice."

The first thought that passed through Alice's mind came in the form of a question: _Why aren't you happy to see her?_ But it was one for which she had not the answer. She should have been thrilled at the Dormouse's unexpected arrival; had she not just spent the last several minutes brooding about Underland? Of course she should have. The visits she spent down the rabbit hole were the most exciting moments of her….well, they were the most memorable, anyway. But somehow….something seemed out of place. Off. _Wrong_. Maybe it was the tone in which she was addressed. Maybe it was way Mallymkun nibbled her bottom lip. Or maybe it was the overwhelming sadness shining in each of the Dormouse's scarlet irises.

"Mally…." She asked hesitantly, removing herself from her bed to better speak to her visitor "….What is it? What's happened?" Kneeling down, she noticed the object Mallymkun had been struggling with earlier was in fact a glass vial half-filled with a shimmering violet liquid. Her stomach churned.

Jabberwocky blood.

"Alice…." The Dormouse began, one curled around the hilt of her sword "….you've got t' return to Underland."

It was a foolish answer, she knew, but it was all Alice could conjure up after hearing such a proposition. "W….why?"

The silver-furred mouse paused, and the sorrow behind her eyes increased tenfold as she squeaked: "….because the 'atter's dying."

* * *

**So now we know what happened to Alice. I love the way I wrote this chapter (it was quite fun, trying to get into that 'proper' style) but I'm not really sure much happens. Either way, I hope you all liked it! I'm finishing up chapter two and working on chapter three, so hopefully I can update again soon!**


	3. That's not what it meant

**I apologize if this fic is moving slowly—it's not going to be quite as long as some of the other AiW '10 fics are, but I'm doing my best to make it enjoyable for you!**

**Oh yes….I KNOW 'fairfarren' means 'farewell.' I PURPOSLY altered its meaning to suit this fic. It was a drastic move, and one I don't normally do, but I got the idea after seeing Burton's film a second time….it just fit so well, and it's really what holds this fic (sort of) together, so bare with me here. I apologize if its changed meaning bothers some of you. It bothers me, but it had to be done.**

**One last thing: the italicized segments in this chapter (and in the upcoming chapters) are flashbacks.**

* * *

_The battlefield stretched out before her; its victims sprawled across its checkered surface, its newly aligned forces, standing beside one another, clutching their wounds or supporting the beaten form of another. To her right, stood the White Queen; a triumphant smile on her porcelain face, her crown glittering despite the gray sky. Next to her, Nivens McTwisp—the white rabbit—beamed, his pink eyes wide with pride and relief. The war was over. The Jabberwocky was dead. They had won. _

_Behind the rabbit stood an assortment of familiar faces; the March Hare, the Tweedles, Chessur—their faces weary but thankful for the blond-haired girl clad in silver armor. Their Alice. Their Champion._

_Yet, it was the face directly in front of her that held her attention; his magenta-colored lips frozen in a melancholy smile; vibrant green eyes full of a distant hope. He had asked her to stay. He _wanted_ her to stay. They all did, she knew. She was their champion, after all. But…._

"_I can't." She said after a moment, forcing her lips to mimic his action. Her chest squirmed in uneasiness, daring to contradict her words, but she ignored it. "There are questions I have to answer…." She went on, telling herself his hurt expression was simply an illusion of her mind "….things I have to do." She took a step back, her gloved hands fumbling to open the vial containing the Jabberwocky blood, averting her gaze in the process. He would not understand; if she gazed into those darkening eyes of his, she knew she would never be able to leave. _

_The air surrounding them had weighed down considerably, a silent battle of emotions flickering between Underland's champion, and its half-mad Hatter. Before she could even stop herself, the words "Be back before you know it," escaped her lips—her heart and its desires temporarily winning over her mind and logic. If only that were true. _

"_You won't remember me." He replied hoarsely, causing Alice to raise her head, despite her previous decision. Slight regret twisted in the pit of her stomach as her eyes searched the Hatter's face. He seemed almost….defeated at her departure. Not saddened or upset….just…._

"_How could I forget?" She said, and this she felt from the bottom of her heart. The Mad Hatter had proved to be one of her dearest friends; to forget him was not only impossible, it would be a downright insult. Her smile broadened, as if to strengthen her words, before taking a drink of the Jabberwocky's blood. As the vulgar liquid trickled down her throat, she thought she saw a bitter look pass over the Hatter's pale face. However, it lasted only a moment, so Alice again dubbed it an illusion; a result of tasting the bitter blood. _

_It was shortly after the world started to fade—The Hatter and all of Underland's inhabitants enveloped in one great blurry shadow. However, just before he vanished completely, the Hatter leaned over, and whispered something in her ear: "Fairfarren, Alice." He said, his features melting into the surrounding darkness._

_She never _did_ learn what that meant._

* * *

"What….what do you mean 'the Hatter's _dying_?'" Alice asked, nearly choking on the words as they escaped her throat. A cold wave of anxiety had washed over her, leaving her eyes wide and her heart pounding in her ears. "Mally, that….that can't be true!"

"Do y' really think I'd be here if it weren't?"

Alice paused, putting her panic attack on hold and swallowing hard. She knew the answer to that question. "N….no. No I-I suppose you wouldn't." She stammered, memories of her not-so-friendly past with the Dormouse flashing before her mind. It was not that they possessed a hostile history—unless one counted the various times Mally drew her sword on her—but rather one of….well, _rivalry_. Jealousy. Competition for affection. It was not that Alice herself felt jealousy—at least, none she would admit to—but the constant dealing with someone who _was_ was rather tiresome. Especially when it was very clear the Mad Hatter adored them both equally…..

"I don't understand." She murmured, hugging her knees to her chest, "How did this happen? I mean, I know it's been a few months, but he seemed perfectly fine when I left—"

"That's what we _all_ thought," Mallymkun interrupted, shaking her head, "but we were so _wrong._" The last part was spoken quietly, as if to herself, rather than to the distressed blond seated before her. The words, however, did not go unnoticed by Alice.

"Mallymkun." She said slowly, earning her a sharp head turn from the Dormouse—the kind one receives after pulling another from their thoughts—"T….Tell me what's wrong with him. What's causing him to….? Why is he….?"Her voice trailed off, unable to bring herself to complete her sentence. This whole mess made no sense at all! He was the _Mad Hatter_—the one who had stood with her in the face of danger several times, willing to do whatever it took to end the war; going so far as to risk his own safety so long as Underland fell back into the hands of its rightful queen. And when Alice herself was unsure of her identity and the task thrust upon her shoulders, _he_ had been the one to guide her confidence until she realized she _had_ been the right Alice all along.

She thought he was invincible.

He….he was _supposed_ to be invincible.

"Mally…." She reiterated, dropping her voice to just above a whisper, "…._please_." The words felt forced, and indeed, they nearly were, as Alice herself was still struggling with her desire to preserve the heroic image of the Hatter her mind had concocted. But the idea was foolish, she knew: she _needed_ to know, no matter how terrifying it was to accept that even Underland's hero had his weakness. Locking gazes with the much smaller female, Alice allowed her desperation to leak into her caramel-colored eyes, hoping Mallymkun would stop stalling—for she had gone silent after revealing that last bit of information—and tell her how she could help. However, the longer she waited, the more Alice thought she saw a spark of rage behind the sadness in the sword-wielder's furry face. _How peculiar_, the blond thought, curiosity temporarily masking her fear, _It's almost as if she's mad at—_

"_You_ are."

—_What?! _Of all the answers in the world, the very last one Alice would have ever expected happened to be those two words. It was a joke. It _had_ to be a joke. She cared for the Hatter dearly—to kill him would be like killing _herself_. "I…." Alice stammered, a turmoil of emotions colliding with her rapidly beating heart "….I'm afraid I….don't know what you mean."

That was clearly the wrong thing to say. "Are you _daft_?" Mallymkun shot back, making a swooping gesture with her hand, "This whole thing is _your_ fault!" Mid-sweep, her arm had halted, now pointing viciously at the distressed blond. "If you 'aden't gone back down the 'ole in the first place, 'e never would 'ave 'ad to suffer like 'e is!"

"Never gone down the rabbit hole?" Alice repeated, not quite believing her ears, "If I hadn't done that, the Red Queen would still be in control!"

Her arm had lowered, the Dormouse still retained a dark expression. "Maybe so." she said, dropping her gaze to the floor, "but at least 'e'd still be _alive_."

"Don't be absurd! The Hatter hated the Queen! She surely would have taken off his head if I hadn't—" _What are you doing, Alice? _A voice that undoubtedly was her conscious internally interjected, _how is this helping? _Fueled by her emotions—lack of comprehension towards Mally's accusation—Alice searched her mind for an answer to that question. What _was_ she doing, exactly? Defending her innocence? Clearing her name? Washing her hands free from a situation she knew only the bare bones of? Indeed, she was doing exactly that. All three of them. And why? How did this senseless, thoughtless arguing help anything? "I'm sorry."

A pause. "You're what?"

"I'm _sorry_, Mallymkun. For going on like I was. I guess…." Her voice cracked "….I guess I'm just afraid."

"Because it's your fault?"

Alice shook her head, a large clump of hair falling in over her face. "Because I don't know _why_."

She expected to receive an aggressive response from the agitated swordsmouse, or one of sarcasm. So when Mallymkun told her to expand her confession, Alice was taken aback—grateful, but taken aback none the less. Exhaling slowly, she decided it was best not ruin such a rare opportunity. "I'll be perfectly honest with you, Mally," she began, leaning forward so as to rest her chin on her knees, "The Hatter seemed perfectly fine when I left—sad, perhaps, but no more than you or the Tweedles or the rest of them."

* * *

_Slight regret twisted in the pit of her stomach as her eyes searched the Hatter's face. He seemed almost….defeated at her departure. Not saddened or upset….just…._

* * *

"I-I thought we'd come to an understanding. I had….I had to attend to my family….my future….I couldn't stay in Underland with him…." Drawing in a breath, her stomach churned uncomfortably. "….I thought he knew that…."

* * *

_As the vulgar liquid trickled down her throat, she thought she saw a bitter look pass over the Hatter's pale face._

* * *

"I mean….he was the one who bid _me_ farewell. I-I-I merely told him I wouldn't forget…." Composure slipping from her fingers, Alice abruptly ended her explanation, biting her lower lip as she waited for the Dormouse to reply. It was childish behavior, but when she considered the whole 'holding a conversation with a sword-wielding mouse' bit, it did not seem quite so bad. Nevertheless, an overwhelming sense of guilt had lodged itself in her throat, and she had not the slightest idea how it got there, or why she was feeling such a thing _as_ guilt when she was obviously innocent….

"Were those his _exact_ words?"

At the sound of Mally's voice, Alice promptly reeled herself from her thoughts. A faint blush dotting her cheeks from embarrassment, she asked the Dormouse to repeat her question.

With her eyebrows knitting into her forehead—and muttering something about incapable girls and wasted effort—Mallymkun obliged. "The day y' left Underland, what _exactly_ did the 'atter say to you? 'Cause the look on 'is face when y' vanished leaves me thinkin' it was somethin' _other_ than a simple good-bye." Her anxiety had diminished somewhat, replaced now with a form of agitation as she waited for a reply of some sort.

Feeling pressured under the petite female's weighted glare, Alice began searching her mind for the specific details of her departure after the battle on Frabjous day….

* * *

_It was shortly after the world started to fade—The Hatter and all of Underland's inhabitants enveloped in one great blurry shadow. However, just before he vanished completely, the Hatter leaned over, and whispered something in her ear: "Fairfarren, Alice." He said, his features melting into the surrounding darkness._

* * *

"Fairfarren." She said softly, repeating the line as the memory cleared. "At least, that's what it sounded like. I'm not entirely—" Alice froze, her words dying on her tongue when she noticed Mallymkun's rather obscure reaction upon hearing such news. The Dormouse's eyes had gone from wide, to nearly bulging; jaw gone slack, and ears poised directly over her head.

Alarmed, Alice scooted back an inch, in time to hear the furry sword wielder whisper a bewildered "_bloody 'ell." _Not quite sure how to respond, Alice continued to observe Mallymkun, watching with rising discomfort as she dragged a petite hand down her face, shaking her head. "You slurvish girl." The mouse alleged coldly, "No _wonder_ y' don't understand."

If there had not been an anxious feeling swimming around in her stomach, Alice would have been quite irritated at being addressed in such a way. As it was, she merely stretched her legs out before her, nervously playing with the hem of her dress. "Understand _what_?" She asked, beginning to suspect her grasp on the 'Outlandish'—as she had been told it was called—language spoken in Underland was not quite as adept as she believed it to be. "What does 'fairfarren' _actually_ mean?"

At first, it appeared Mallymkun would not reply, as _she_ had begun fiddling with the rim of her scarf. The anxiety Alice had previously felt climbed its way into her throat, her heart pounding against her fragile frame in anticipation of the Dormouse's answer. It was not that she had incorrectly translated the word, so much as the drastic behavioral shift Mally had undergone upon hearing her error. Not once since Alice had known her did the swordsmouse display any sort of intimidation, so the fact that she was _now_ set off a warning sign in the blond girl's head.

And with good reason, as the next words out of Mallymkun's mouth nearly stopped her heart.

"Alice…. 'fairfarren' doesn't mean '_farewell_.' It means '_I love you_.'"

* * *

**PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! I SWEAR I'm NOT trying to be cliché. It just….you'll see.**

**Ah yes, I should point out that the reason the writing style isn't quite as proper in this chapter, which is because Underland isn't a very proper place. Even if it's just Mallymkun at the present moment. That….and it's a bit hard to keep up that writing style.**

**I hope you guys liked this chapter! Stay tuned for the next one!**


	4. Follow your heart

**Before I get started, I'd just like to say a big thank you to all my readers! I've never felt so loved before, and I've been writing fanfiction for quite a while!!!!! So THANK YOU!**

**Now, a few things regarding this chapter:**

**--about halfway through, it switches into the first person. Why? Because I felt that that particular part of the story was better told in first person. However, as Mally is the speaker, it is done with an accent….so I hope you'll still be able to read it!**

**If not, message me!**

**Anyway: This chapter is my longest yet!!!!! Ten pages! Probably why it took so long to write ^^ **

**I hope you guys like it!!!!!**

* * *

There were only three times in her young life that Alice Kingsley could ever recall bursting into tears. The first time had been when she was but a child—twelve to be exact—and had opened her front door one morning to a grim-faced man reporting her father's abrupt death overseas.

The second time had, in fact, been in Underland—the eve before Frabjous day—where she had paced back and forth across the White Queen's balcony, as she juggled protecting those she loved against protecting her own life.

The third time happened when Alice opened her eyes to how foolish she had been since her arrival back into the real world. Questions to answer….things to do….what had she done but told a prude, dreadfully boring auburn-haired snob he was not the right man for her? Did she really need return to London just for that? Especially when there already _was_ a man—a passionate, wonderful, _half-mad_ man—waiting for her just down the rabbit hole? A man who—she was sure—would not hesitate to sweep her in his arms and make her his wife?

"I c-can't believe I d-didin't see it before!" Alice whimpered, wrapping her arms around her shaking upper body "If I had….If I knew he felt that way I…." _You'd _what_, exactly? _Her conscience questioned, deciding that _now_ was an _excellent_ time to voice its opinion, _What would you have done differently, Alice? _She fell silent, biting her lip as salty tears rolled down her cheeks. Indeed, what _would_ she have done? If she had been aware of the Hatter's feelings from the start, could things have ended differently? Would she even have _left_ Underland? It was impossible to say. She was still just barely able to comprehend the fact that the Mad Hatter, the very life and soul of the magical world she cherished so dearly, was in love with her. Plain, clumsy, awkward Alice. The Alice everyone assumed would never be a proper lady. The Alice they believed could do no better than a lord in marriage.

Surely a madman was far better than a lord.

_Oh, but Alice, _that voice in her head interjected once more, _what of your _own_ feelings?_

The already-present dull ache in her chest throbbed, her tear-stained face twisting into a pained expression.

Yet another unanswerable question.

It was around this time that the emotionally distraught girl had worn out the patience of her silver-furred visitor, to the point, in fact, where Mallymkun had drawn her sword, leaned forward, and jabbed—quite rudely—the flesh of her lower leg. With a squeal, Alice flinched, drew her legs to her chest, and glowered. "W-was that really necessary?"

If the situation had not been one of such intensity, a smirk would mostly likely be placed upon the Dormouse's lips. As it was, she merely tucked her sword back into its hilt, and folded her arms over her chest. "Depends. Do I 'ave your attention now?"

As she was currently locked in a battle against the few choice words threatening to spill from her mouth, Alice chose to nod in reply. It saved her from being skewered by the slender—yet incredibly sharp—needle-like sword, and—hopefully anyway—allowed her to maintain the illusion that this ordeal was _not_ driving her completely bonkers.

After all, when one is told one's best friend is in love with them, how are they _supposed_ to act?

How are they supposed to _feel_?

"Good." Mallymkun went on, indifferent to the jumble of questions stirring within the girl's mind, "thought your tears 'ad gone and drowned ya." She shook her head, clicking her tongue to the roof of her mouth. "A lot of good _that_ woulda done poor Tarrant…." The Dormouse added, though mostly to herself, as the tone was bitter—if not a tad spiteful. To the point, in fact, where Alice decided that pretending to ignore—for it _was_ pretending, as she had always had exceptional hearing—Mallymkun's private additions to their conversation was just not going to work.

Eyes still red, but no longer leaking tears, her slender brow furrowed, a window into the sea of contorted emotions cascading over her heart. "You think I did this on purpose, don't you." She said through a shaky breath, matching the sword-wielder's tone with one of equal disdain.

Mally's ears flattened against her head. "_Did _you?"

As before, those 'choice words' were dancing on the tip of Alice's tongue, begging to be released and put their accuser in her place. And though she had indeed earned her right to use them—as she had previously informed Lord Ascot—the blond knew full well now was not the proper time for such language.

On the other hand, that fluttering sensation in her stomach could use some explaining….

"Ah, silent, I see. Guilty as charged."

"What?! Mally, you can't be serious!" Alice cried, slamming her hands down on the wooden floor. "I never wanted this to happen! I care for the Hatter, same as you! And if I had known that he loved…."a pause? Whatever for? "….that he loved me, I—"

She stopped, experiencing a rare sense of déjà-vu. _What would you have done, Alice? What would you have done, if you'd known what 'fairfarren' actually meant?_

The delicate **CLINK** of the Jabberwocky vile served as her answer. Head still swarming with troubled thoughts, Alice watched vision as Mallymkun curled both her tail and left arm around the glass container, dragging it closer to the blond girl's feet. "Right then," the Dormouse grunted, careful so as not to break the invaluable vial, "drink up. We don't 'ave…." she faltered, apprehension momentarily replacing her gruff tone, "….we don't 'ave much time."

The instructions were simple enough: lean forward, grab the bottle, take a swig, then off to Underland she would be. Three simple steps, with one simple result.

Why now, then, did Alice's hand freeze—poised just above the translucent vial but unable to do more than hover over it?

What was stopping her?

* * *

"_Follow your heart, Alice."_

* * *

Easier said than done.

"Is there a _problem_?"

The blond girl blinked, retracting her hand in an abrupt motion. After debating just how to answer Mallymkun's question, Alice finally confessed—albeit hesitantly: "I….I'm afraid I don't know."

"Y' don't know?" The swordsmouse reiterated, crimson eyes widening incredulously, "bloody gallymoggers….what d' ya mean by _that_?"

Once more Alice froze, her words trapped in her throat. "I…." she started, averting her gaze, "….I'm not sure if this is what my father meant. If _this_" she wrapped her slender fingers around the glass container "is what it means to _follow my heart_."

There were hundreds of ways in which the Dormouse could have reacted to such an explanation. _Thousands_, even; many of which Alice herself could predict. '_Who came up with that nonsense?'_ or '_This isn't some bloody romance novel!'_ were among the top ten.

Of course, Mally happened to choose the one reply Alice had _not_ accounted for.

"Do y' love 'im?"

A beat. "W-what?"

"Do y' love the Mad 'atter?"

The fluttery feeling returned, along with a slight burning of the cheeks. _Did_ she love the Mad Hatter? That crazy, passionate, wonderful man with vibrant green eyes, and a smile that could light up even the darkest of days? The man who had stood by her side, believing in her ability to slay that horrid Jabberwocky, when _she_ failed to believe in herself?

"Alice."

The man now knocking on death's door….all because of _her_?

"Alice!"

Despite her seated position, the girl nearly jumped a foot in the air. Whipping her head around so fast she thought she heard a crack, Alice locked eyes with a rather bemused Dormouse. Raising an eyebrow in question, Mally uttered a flat: "_Breath_."

A gasp—or rather a sputter—hacking cough, followed by a sharp intake of breath. Color rose to her cheeks, _this_ time of embarrassment—which begs the question of why she blushed _before_—while a nervous smile carved its way into her face. "….t-thank you…." She mumbled, a bit awkwardly as she was still in the process of regaining her breath "….lot of….lot of things to think about."

Something like envy flitted momentarily behind Mallymkun's scarlet irises, a silent message that she found Alice's 'apology' unacceptable. "_You_ think _you've _got a lot t' think about?" The Dormouse spat, close enough now to jab the larger girl's knee with an outstretched finger, "All _you_ 'ave to do is give me a 'yes' or no answer! That doesn't even compare to the 'ell me and everyone else 'as 'ad to go through since you left!"

Typically, Alice would have regarded her agitated friend with a mild form of respect—a respect that consisted of _not_ losing her composure. A pity she could care less at the present moment. "Well I wouldn't _know_ what you've been through, now _would_ I?" She barked back, pulling her leg out of Mally's reach with a huff. "You've neglected to tell me _your_ side of things."

The swordsmouse's mouth opened to contradict the girl, but closed almost immediately after. Keeping her own mouth shut, Alice watched as the Dormouse grimaced, groaned, then threw her arms in the air. "You're right. You're _right_. I 'aven't told ya…." It sounded not unlike a statement of defeat, rather than the acknowledgment of derelict information—as Alice had hoped. However, she had yet to curse or shout, so Alice took the reaction as it came, waiting until Mallymkun decided to share her memories; provide some insight into her mind.

She did not have to wait long. Though the sword-wielder had a tendency to act in a defensive manner, if prodded just enough—or left to the mercy of an incredibly uncomfortable silence—the wall she had so carefully constructed around herself would eventually crumble away.

"So you wanna know what I've been through, do ya?" She finally said, keeping her voice low, "….Oh _bugger_….where to begin?"

* * *

_You 'ave t' forgive me if I sound like I'm pleadin' my case 'ere, but like I said before, none of us realized just 'ow badly your leaving 'urt poor Tarrant._

_I knew 'e cared about ya, but I never really considered 'e'd fall in love wiv ya. I mean, you were _Alice_: Underland's champion. That was—and don' look a' me like that—_all_ you were supposed to be. Our friend, our alley, and—most importantly—our _liberator_._

_You weren't supposed t' steal 'is 'eart._

_And yet, ya did. You bloody captured 'is attention away from 'is friends….'is anger a' the Red Queen….even 'is madness itself._

_And when y' left, you took it wiv ya._

_What is it they say: when y' break a man's 'eart, 'is spirit follows after? I don' know. But that's exactly what 'appened to 'im._

_Y' remember that look on 'is face th' day y' left? Of course you do. Stared right into 'is eyes till you bloody disappeared, if memory serves. Well that expression of 'is darkened considerably once y' were outta sight. 'is eyes dulled, shoulders slumped—like 'e'd been deflated. Yes yes, I know—didn't this be'avior strike us as odd?_

_Not—and this, I'll admit, I'm ashamed of—entirely. We'd just finished a battle; everyone was ex'austed to one degree or another. Tarrant was no exception….or so we thought, anyway. But really, Alice: Mirana even asked 'im if 'e was alright—I think she may 'ave suspected something long before the rest of them…._us_….did—and 'e just flashed 'er a sympathetic smile, waved 'is 'and, murmuring something about fatigue. I dunno if she believed 'im or not, but either way, she simply nodded, then turned to the rest o' us—dictating orders and whatnot. Who was wounded, who needed a place to stay— that sort of thing. _

_A shame she never asked if any of us were _broken_._

_Maybe 'e woulda said somethin' before things got outta 'and._

_Oh bloody 'ell—why 're you cryin….never mind, I don't want to know._

_Now, as I was sayin'…._

_I guess I first suspected 'e was acting….well, _off_….when 'e didn't bother attendin' the celebration th' White Queen hosted some time after Frabjous day: once everyone 'ad 'ad some time to heal and rest up. At first, I thought 'e was pullin' my leg—you know 'ow 'e can be—when he just sat at the 'ead of the tea table and refused to move. Said there was no point in celebratin'; the Jabberwocky 'ad been dead for some time; th' time for rejoicing 'ad long since past._

_Thackery—the March 'are, in case y' forgot—didn' take too kindly to that, and made th' mistake o' snappin' at Tarrant: "You're no fun anymore!" 'e said, pointin' a spoon "No fun no fun no fun!"_

_I suppose 'e woulda gone on screamin' if the 'atter 'ad retaliated. But 'e didn't. 'e jus' sank further into 'is chair, told us that _we_ should go ahead an' enjoy ourselves, but 'e _wasn't_ goin' and that was final._

_That last part 'ad been spoken in a Scottish—yes, I _do_ know somethin' of the Upperlands—brogue. I'm sure if I 'ad seen 'is eyes under 'is 'at, they woulda been a nasty, fiery red-orange color._

* * *

"But," Alice promptly interrupted, staring at Mallymkun with wide, watery eyes, "if you knew he was in such a state….why did you go? To the Queen's party, I mean?"

The Dormouse frowned, massaging her temples with her thumb and forefinger. "I was jus' about t' _get_ t' that."

"O-oh." The response was weak, trembling….reflecting the horrible anticipation strangling her heart as she sat there, biting her lip every ten minutes to keep the tears from falling. "Th….then please, do continue."

Mallymkun sighed. "Fine then. But no more interruptions."

"O-of course…."

Her brow furrowed deeper. "We'll see 'ow long _that_ lasts…."

* * *

_I don't know _what_ made me leave Tarrant like that. Any fool could see somethin' was wrong wiv 'im. Guess….guess I didn't want t' believe 'e was really tha' bad—I mean, 'ow could a man who stood in the face o' death jus' weeks ago seem so….different. Un-Tarrant-like. I couldn' stand to see 'im like that….so I didn't. Thackery an' I, unaccustomed to 'is strange behavior….we decided to listen to 'im and just up an' left, tellin' ourselves it was only temporary….that the 'atter would be back to 'is old self in no time._

_Of all the slurvish nonsense. _

'_e didn't get better, but I'm sure ya already knew that._

'_e just figured out 'ow to 'ide it from us. For a while, anyway. _

_It was actually Mirana who suggested it. Might keep 'is mind off 'things'—_you_, actually, but at the time, I didn't want t' believe that. Now don't go askin' why, cuz that's none o' your business. I jus' didn't realize 'ow much 'e loved ya…._

…_.Right, where was I?_

_Ah yes: th' White Queen decided to set 'atter up wiv 'is old job as, well an 'atter. Figured if 'e 'ad somethin t' occupy 'imself wiv—'stead of drinkin' tea and sulkin' like 'e was—'e'd remember what 'e was like before _you_ showed up. I thought it was a good idea, and Thackery, mad as 'e is, agreed wiv us. Tarrant, as we shoulda expected, seemed indifferent to this idea. But 'e didn't refuse, so we thought we were makin' progress. Y' know as well as I do 'ow much the 'atter loved makin' 'ats—almost got sucked into workin' for the Red Queen, if y' remember. So we thought, workin' for Mirana, in the finest work rooms y' could imagine—high ceilings, stained-glass windows, those glossy pearl-colored tables—all white, of course—would surely brighten up 'is attitude._

_Wouldn't y' know it 'ad the opposite effect?_

_Yeah, 'e was back to 'is old profession, but that's all 'e bloody did. Practically lived in th' castle, so we 'ardly saw 'im anymore. And even when we did, 'e didn't talk much. One-word answers, and always wiv a horridly flat tone t' them. Like 'e jus' didn't care._

_And 'e really didn't. Not about us, or 'is 'ats….or even Mirana, and 'e used to admire 'er quite a bit. Tragic, isn't it? That was a rhetorical question—I'm not done yet. Not quite. _

_See, after about what you'd consider a month, th' Queen summoned Thackery an' I back to 'er castle—of dire importance, she said. So of course, we obliged, and 'urried to see what was up. We both 'ad our 'unches why we were bein' called for….but actually seein' the problem was an 'ole other matter. Tarrant….Tarrant 'ad apparantly locked 'imself in 'is work room, and 'ad stopped respondin' to any an' all requests to open th' door. Fearin' the worst, no doubt, Mirana came to _us_—we were Tarrant's best friends, surely we could do somethin'? _

_We looked at each other—Thackery an' I—wiv rising fear in our chests. The 'atter was, usually, a very social person: 'e 'ated livin' in seclusion, though I never understood why. I only knew _this_ current be'avior wasn't natural. Whatever possessed 'im to shut 'imself in like that must really be bad. I asked Mirana jus' 'ow long 'e'd been in there, and she—and _don't_ interrupt me when I tell ya—said about _two days_._

_Two bloody days, cut off from the res' o' th' world, an' the needs someone such as 'imself requires on a daily basis._

_I tell ya, that news nearly sent Thackery hurlin' 'imself a' the door, if the Queen's guards 'aden't 'eld 'im back. I damn near woulda done that myself, if I 'adn't been small—though I'm rather tall for my species—enough t' notice I was approximately th' right size to squeeze under th' door, which, if y' 'adn't guessed, was exactly what Mirana wanted me t' do._

_So—a bit apprehensively of course—I did so, pretendin' I didn' see th' sad/worried looks o' those standin' behind me._

_Th' first thing I noticed was 'ow dark it was. The blinds were drawn, the lights were off—everythin' was draped in shadow. "Tarrant?" I squeaked, gruntin' as I pulled myself into the room, "Tarrant are you in 'ere?" I know—sounds odd, callin' out to 'im like that, but 'e'd been silent for so long, I was worried 'e 'adn't gone and done somthin' drastic. Bein' a rodent—to which I take great pride in, by th' way—th' dark wasn't as 'ard to see in for me as it woulda been for some, so I was able to navigate my way around the strewn about 'ats and materials pretty well. _

_Granted, I didn' find 'im till I'd reached th' back o' th' room. In th' corner, actually. Curled around 'imself, 'is 'at clutched tightly in one of 'is 'ands, 'is eyes a faded grey-green. 't's the one an' only time 'e's ever caught me by surprise, an' I didn' like it one bit. Wanted to run out o' the room….if I'm bein' perfectly 'onest. But I couldn' do that. So I stepped forward. "Tarrant? Tarrant, can….can you 'ear me?" I asked in a whisper. Th' atmosphere o' the room called for a hushed tone; I think any other woulda set 'im off._

_As it was, 'e didn't answer my question directly….bu' what 'e did say gave me insight to what I'd assumed but never dared admit to up until tha' point._

"_I've…." 'e started, then stopped, seemed 'e wasn't used t' th' sound of 'is own voice, "I've been considering things that begin with the letter 'H'…."_

'_**The letter 'H'?'**__ I remember thinkin', __**'what 'appened to th' letter 'M?''**__ See, the 'atter 'ad been stuck on that letter so long, I 'adn't expected 'e'd switch to another one. But 'e did. "Th' letter 'H'?" I asked aloud, hesitantly makin' my way over to 'im. _

'_e gave me no sign o' recognition; jus' kept right on goin' as if I'd never spoken at all. "Hurt….hopeless…._heartbreak_." _

_It was then I realized I couldn't pretend t' be blind anymore. _

_Yeah. Yeah, I say pretend….because I really did suspect the reason 'e was fallin' apart like this….I jus couldn' bring myself to admit 'e loved someone other than m—_

_*Ahem*_

'_e didn't say anything after that; 'e'd exhausted both 'is energy and the extent of 'is regard for me, shutting 'is eyes an' retreatin' into 'is 'ead. _

_As for me, well, there was nothin' more I could do but leave poor Tarrant for the time being, climbing up a roll of fabric in order to unlock th' door and report back t' the White Queen._

_There wasn't much t' say. The 'atter'd simply given up. 'e bloody stopped carin'. About 'imself….about everything._

* * *

The room had grown eerily quiet: the only sound being Mallymkun's labored breathing and Alice's muffled sobs. "And….and after that?" The girl asked, gazing mournfully at the Doremouse as another few tears slid down her cheeks.

Mally—also wearing a pained expression—tore her own eyes away from the blond, wringing her petite hands together. "After that…." she concluded, repeating Alice's last two words in a sorrowful tone, "after that….Mirana 'ad 'im taken from th' room an' put 'im under constant observation. I think she was 'oping she could pull 'im out of it—if 'e was monitored closely….maybe 'e'd see what 'e was doin' to 'imself an' stop…." She trailed off, haunted—no doubt—by memories of the past few months.

Memories Alice could have prevented….

If only she had _stayed_….

"Mally…."

"What?"

Wiping her eyes on the bare flesh of her forearm, she asked: "….where is the Hatter _now_?" The words were shaky—strained—trying to break what remained of the girl's composure as they rolled off her tongue. This was her fault. _Her_. Alice Kingsley. Daughter of Charles Kingsley. Apprentice to Lord Ascot. _Champion of Underland._

"Th' Queen put 'im up in 'is livin' quarters." Mally replied woefully, blinking—Alice noticed—rather rapidly. "Finally realized there was no point in tryin' to prevent 'im from wastin' away….unless of course—"

"Unless I return to Underland…." The larger girl finished, sniffling.

"Exactly."

And there it was.

The facts were laid out, the timeline dictated….all the pieces of the tortured puzzle of a situation finally put together.

The Mad Hatter was dying. Dying of a broken heart. A heart _she_ broke. A heart that would cease to function unless _she_ went back….

* * *

"_Follow your heart, Alice."_

* * *

….back to the world of her childhood—the world of her dreams.

A world where she was not criticized for her forward thoughts….her wild imagination….her headstrong attitude. A world where no one would ever lecture her disdain for corsets.

A world where Alice could truly be Alice.

* * *

"_Never let anything or anyone deter you from being _you_."_

* * *

Heart pounding in her ears, Alice knew what she needed to do. With a bold move, she lifted the vial containing the jabberwocky blood in her hand, pulled off the top, and pressed it to her lips. He was not going to die. Not on her—

"'ey! Leave some for me!"

Just before the entirety of the pungent purple liquid found its way down her throat, Alice pulled the bottle away. "O-oh….right. Sorry."

Mumbling something under her breath, Mallymkun climbed atop the blond's knee, gesturing for her to lower the glass container. Making a face at the bitter but familiar taste of the oddly colored liquid, Alice did so. "I hope that's enough." She said—more for making conversation than anything else. The Dormouse grunted, downing the remains of the vial's contents as her answer to the larger girl.

It was shortly after they had both had their fill of the vulgar stuff that the world became enveloped in a murky haze; the living quarters of the 'Wonder' growing darker and foggier until they were no more than a shapeless blur.

….Right before she vanished from this world, Alice thought she heard the rusty **CREAK **of an opening door, followed by a gasp and a jumble of muffled words. However, there was very little time to consider who or what was responsible for the mismatched sounds. Currently, Alice could focus on only two things: the pounding of her heart in her ears, and the panic and apprehension swimming in the pit of her stomach. In a voice so faint even Mallymkun could not hear, she whispered: "I'm coming Hatter."

* * *

**I know I know….you all want to see Alice IN Underland! I don't blame you. But I promise, she'll get there in the next chapter!**


	5. No turning back

**Whoa. I'm back.**

**Sorry about the long wait: I got distracted writing another short fanfic (that's almost finished) and then I had a research paper due for school. Actually, the research paper isn't finished either, so this is going to be the last chapter for a while.**

**I actually wanted to wait until the chapter after this was finished before posting this one (as is my method of fanfic writing) but I thought it unfair to you readers. So this is my present to you :) **

**I promise you all: I WILL finish this story! It's almost done—maybe three chapters left.**

**Anyway, I apologize again, and hope this was worth the wait.**

* * *

She had always pictured her return as a joyous occasion: a pivotal moment in both her life and in Underland itself. In her mind's eye, she would stand there, head held high as she burst through the White castle doors, exclaiming "I'm back!" at the top of her lungs—causing heads to turn every which way in delight. "Alice!" They would cry, rushing over to greet her, eyes dancing and arms open for embrace. And she would take it in—their smiles, their laughter—her heart overflowing with happiness as her vision brushed over their heads, and into the green-eyed gaze of the man who thought himself as good as forgotten. With a grin stretching from ear to ear, she would place her hands on her hips, and say softly: "I told you I'd remember."

Reality, however, was a very cruel thing. When the fog cleared and her head stopped spinning, Alice realized this with profound dismay. There was no one to welcome her—to refuel the dying flame in her heart.

There was no green-eyed man for her to contradict.

Just the low, dull ache gnawing at her chest.

She was—the more she studied her surroundings—not even standing in front of the castle doors. Quite the opposite, actually: it appeared as though she were sitting on the balcony.

A turn of her head over her shoulder confirmed her suspicions. This was the balcony, alright. She would recognize it anywhere. From its marble-white walls—bits of ivy winding around its massive columns—to the spectacular view stretched below it.

A view she had overlooked not once, but several times, the last time she was here.

In Underland.

"Well, that's somethin' I 'ope I never 'ave to do again."

Alice looked down, silently thankful at being shaken from her thoughts as her gaze fixed itself on the Dormouse, who had by this point hopped off her knee and was currently recapping the now empty bottle. Perceptive as she was, Mally sensed the larger girl's observing eyes, and raised her head with a dismissive "What?"

Alice shook her head. "Nothing. Just…." She drew in a breath, "Just thinking I suppose. I didn't expect to be back so soon. At least…." She faltered, feeling her throat tighten"….not like this."

That same, vulnerable side of Mallymkun she had witnessed earlier flashed across the swordsmouse's silver-furred features. "None of us did." She paused, her lip quivering as if unsure whether or not to continue her train of thought. "But...." the Dormouse said finally, "You're 'ere now. That's what counts."

Taken aback by this unexpected—encouragement?—from the other female, Alice only found herself able to stammer an astonished "I-I suppose it is."

"It'll 'ave to be, anyway." Mally went on, tucking the glass vial—for she had finally succeeded in capping it—safely between her sword sheath and right side of her body. "If this doesn't work…."

"I know." Alice cut in, scrambling to her feet. She did not want to think about '_ifs_.' 'Ifs' served no purpose other than to damper the spirits and shatter one's confidence.

Neither of which would serve to her benefit should she succumb to them.

And she most certainly did _not_ want that to happen ….

"My my my. Is that Alice, I see? How little you've changed since the last time!"

Recognizing this new—though it was more like unexpected—voice almost instantly, Alice spun around….or rather, she _would_ have, had a particularly blue and fuzzy head not materialized in front of her; green eyes gleaming with a delight that reflected the crescent-like grin carved into his face.

Almost immediately, Alice's features lit up. "Chessur!" She exclaimed, extending a hand to scratch between his ears. "It's so good to see you again!"

"Likewise." He purred, willing the rest of his body—still in mid-air—to appear. "My ears needed a good scratching."

A sharp scoff came from somewhere around Alice's ankles. "Really now Chess," Mallymkun scolded, waving a finger, "now ain't the time for such behavior."

The Cheshire cat's face darkened. "Wonderful to see you too, Mallymkun." He chided, nevertheless floating away from the blond. "But you're right, of course."

Like the cat before her, the temporary ecstasy upon seeing another familiar face quickly evaporated, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides.

She never _could_ stand to wait.

Especially _now_.

"Chessur…." She said after a moment, gaze wandering about until it came to rest on the Castle's entrance some twenty or so feet away, "….it's lovely to see you again, but—"

"Ah yes, the _Hatter_." He interrupted, hovering back towards her worried face. "I suppose you want me to go alert the Queen of your presence, _hm_?"

"I—"

"Say no more, say no more." The cat concluded with an eloquent bow, allowing Alice no time to explain she really would prefer to inform the Queen of her _own_ presence, but the aqua-colored feline disappeared before she had the chance to clarify.

"I suppose it's just as well," she muttered, in an effort to convince herself, "I really _do_ have poor evaporating skills." With a sigh, her gaze once again trailed down to a visibly impatient Mallymkun.

It took everything she had not to squirm under the Dormouse's gaze.

"You done babblin' to y'self?" the smaller female snapped—for it really was more of a snap, not a question—"I didn' bring y' back for nothing, did I?"

_That_ hurt. "N-no." She replied brisky, mentally cursing both the instability in her voice, and Mallymkun's apparent lack of faith "not at all."

_You can do this, Alice._

Silently begging her nerves to hold themselves together, her chestnut eyes darted from the Dormouse, to the looming door a few feet away. "Let's go."

_You can save him._

* * *

It was much more convincing on the balcony.

At least there she as free from the gaping stares currently boring through her very being as she ascended the staircase into the main corridor; blushing heavily.

The Queen, McTwisp, Thackery—and of course, the Cheshire cat—were all there; three out of four pairs extraordinarily large eyes—for the cat held little surprised, having met her moments ago—continuing to gaze at her as if she were a complete stranger, rather than their own champion. She herself found this a bit unsettling—if not somewhat offensive: one would think they would recognize an Alice when they saw one.

"I don't much like being stared at." She alleged before realizing she had spoken the words aloud and promptly clamping a hand over her mouth. After months apart from this fantastical world and its inhabitants, and the first thing she says to them is a critique of their behavior?

Perhaps she _was_ a stranger after all.

An exasperated sigh came from somewhere around her ankles; an _equally_ exasperated Dormouse stepping forward with a furrowed brow. "You'll 'ave t' forgive Alice here, Mirana. She's not entirely in 'er right mind at th' moment."

If Mally had not been quite so small, Alice would have jabbed her with an elbow. However, as that was not currently possible, the blond girl simply frowned, muttering a sarcastic '_thank you'_ under her breath.

"It's quite all right, Alice dear." The White Queen chimed in, interrupting the other two females, "You have every reason to be apprehensive." Mirana broke away from the group, gliding towards Alice with a wan smile upon her porcelain face. "You've done magnificently, Mallymkun." She continued, placing a gentle hand on the Alice's shoulder, "but I believe it is best if I take it from here."

Again, Alice looked down, wondering vaguely how the Dormouse would react to such a statement. Indeed, her bottom lip was twitching around the corners—desperately wanting to speak but not allowed to do so—and her ears had lowered so that they were but centimeters away from lying against her head.

_I suppose even someone as rash as Mallymkun knows to hold her tongue in the presence of royalty._

Done with her observations, Alice turned her attention back to the fair-haired Queen. "….I take it we should be off then?" She asked, half-dreading each word as it passed through her lips. Despite Mirana's understanding tone, Alice still found herself rather terrified of the task—for it was indeed starting to seem as such—the corridor's occupants had thrust upon her shoulders. She may have been their champion, but that did nothing to ease the fear coursing through her veins. After all, killing a monster and trying to prevent a dear friend _from_ dying were two drastically different things.

The latter of which Alice knew little or nothing about.

_But you must do something…._her thoughts cut in like a light through the fog _....they're depending on you. _She stopped, her gaze drifting back to the group huddled a few feet away _….and so is _he_._

Taking a deep breath, she tore her eyes away from her friends, and turned to the Queen. "Take me to the Hatter."

Did she feel the least bit confident in what she was about to do?

Certainly not.

Did that make the slightest bit of difference?

Not at all.

* * *

"I'm still not entirely sure why they looked at me like that." Alice confessed, once she and Mirana had traveled further down the corridor, "They seemed positively shocked at my arrival…."

Despite their nearing destination, a small smile tugged at the edge of the Queen's mouth. "That's because they were."

Alice raised an eyebrow, undoubtedly confused. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

That small smile morphed into a playful smirk, not unlike a child withholding a secret. "It was my idea to send for you. And—with the exception of Chessur, who has a terrible knack for eavesdropping—only Mallymkun knew of it, as she was the one I sent." She still wore her smile, but her chocolate irises darkened. "I didn't want to risk exciting the others in case—"

"In case what?" Alice curtly interrupted, locking eyes with the Queen, "In case I didn't agree to return?" A look of hurt flashed across her face. "With all due respect your majesty, why _ever_ would you think _that_?"

Mirana sighed, but nevertheless, elaborated with a soft "because you seemed so willing to break away from us before. It seemed—to some—as if their champion hadn't cared as deeply for them as she thought." The fair-haired woman stopped once again, examining Alice closely—so closely, in fact—she nearly came to a halt. "You know how dearly Tarrant cares for you, don't you?"

Alice's face reddened, her heart beat escalating in her ears as she replied with a nervous "Yes. I am."

The Queen's head bobbed up and down, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "And….what of…._your_ feelings?" She inquired, tilting her head a fraction of an inch.

Still under Mirana's gaze, Alice squirmed uncomfortably. Oh how she wished people would stop asking her that question. "I…." she started, fumbling for a response, "I…." Her cheeks were burning; images of her previous stay in Underland floating around inside her head.

Images of a red-headed, green-eyed man with wildly colored clothing.

A man who had practically destroyed his tea things after leaping onto and walking across the table upon seeing her for the first time in thirteen years.

A man who had hastily stuffed her into a teapot upon the arrival of the Knave and his soldiers.

A man who had willingly sacrificed his freedom so that she could continue on with her mission.

A man who had stood by her side, feeding her confidence, while they stood facing the Red Queen's army.

A man who had, in his own way, begged her not to leave him behind.

"I….I hardly think _my_ feelings are important at the moment." She said hastily, silently pleading the Queen to drop the matter.

It did very little good to ask someone a question they themselves knew not the answer to.

Thankfully, her wish was granted, and the subject of love—no, _feelings_, it was _feelings_—was in fact dropped.

Still, that did not prevent the curious looks Mirana would throw every so often, as if trying to answer her own question.

This continued right up until they reached a rather large, pearly white door; wooden in material but framed in marble pillars stretching from the floor all the way to the ceiling, save for a few inches.

And just like that, the oh-so familiar wave of anxiety crashed over Alice. "We're here….aren't we." She croaked, heart pounding so strongly she could barely hear her own voice. "This is….this is his room, isn't it."

The Queen merely nodded, clasping her hands and drawing them both to her bosom. "Yes."

Again, her gaze trailed to Alice, and again, the girl's chest twisted painfully. She knew what the Queen expected; for her to reach forward, throw the door open, and march into the Hatter's room with a bold determination.

But this was not the same as Frabjous day. There was no silver armor to shield her emotions. No Vorpal sword to defend her aching heart.

No one to stand by her, whispering words of encouragement.

This time, she was defenseless. Alone. _Terrified_.

"Alice?" Mirana questioned softly, eyebrows knitting into a look of concern, "Alice, are you all right?"

_No. No, I'm _not_ alright, thank you very much! _She screamed inwardly, keeping her eyes glued to the massive door before her. The door separating herself from her task. From _him_. However, aloud, she muttered a shaky"Yes….yes I-I'm fine" before sucking in a breath.

Mirana did not appear convinced. "Are you sure? You look as though you're about to cry."

Was she? She had not noticed her watering vision_. _Blinking rapidly in attempts to clear her eyes from their liquid sheath, she stammered a half-hearted "I-I-I'm sure." Which of course, she was not, but there was very little she could do about that right now.

Lips pursed into a tight line, Mirana nodded once more, taking a step back. Alice knew the Queen did not believe her—that was obvious—yet they both knew there was no way to approach this situation without being anxious. No way to open those doors without wanting to bolt in the opposite direction, if only to save one's self from the inevitable pain.

Deciding to act on her behalf, her thoughts chose to remind her of her previous decision on the balcony: _You can do this, Alice._ They told her, guiding her shaking arm towards the door handle, aiding her hand as it curled itself around said handle, _You can save him._

With every ounce of strength she possessed, Alice pulled on the heavy door, gritting her teeth together when it opened with an echoing **SQQUUUEAK**.

This was it.

There was no going back now.

A lump in her throat, tears stinging her eyes, Underland's champion slipped into the Hatter's quarters, the door closing behind her with a startling **THUD.**

The first thing she noticed: it was dark. Very very dark. So dark, in fact she could barely see her hands—extended before her—let alone the surrounding furniture. It felt as though she had stepped into one overwhelming, silent, shadow…..

Wait a moment.

There was a faint noise coming from the center of the room—a soft, rhythmic sound. A _breathing_ sound.

Biting her lip, Alice peered into the darkness, focusing intently until she could barely make out an average-sized rectangular shape jutting out from the wall on the right. A shape that, the more she stared, seemed to have someone lying atop it….

A strangled gasp escaped her throat.

She had been staring at a bed.

And _he_ was the one laying on it.

Still. Silent. If his chest had not periodically risen and fallen, she would have thought he were _dead_.

A sudden chill attacked her spine, and the tears broke free, rolling down her cheeks like miniature, salty waterfalls.

"Oh Hatter…." She hiccupped, taking a hesitant step towards his shadowy form, "what have I done to you?"


End file.
